


Emotional Bonding

by Detective_Sammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sub!Castiel, dom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detective_Sammy/pseuds/Detective_Sammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is stricken with a disease that liquefies your insides. Death is averted when Castiel comes in with a cure, telling him that intensifying the bond between them will stave off certain death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotional Bonding

 

Dark. Quiet. Something was wrong. There wasn’t even a creak from the cheap motel bed as he carefully slid his hand under his pillow to get the gun that he had stashed there before he had gone to sleep. No light was flooding through the window. Something was there and Dean wasn’t about to tip whatever creature was in the room off by moving too much.

He wrapped his hand around the gun, tightening his fingers. He felt his stomach lurch as slid it toward him. Dean wasn’t afraid of a gun. Hell, guns were some of his best friends. Nor was he really afraid of whatever creature had stirred him from his sleep. No, Dean was sick.

It had hit him hard the day before. He and Sam had been at a local dinner, eating a greasy lunch—Well, Dean was eating, Sam was too into his laptop to do more than even think of a glass of water— and discussing the case that had brought them to Vermont. People were dying. No, worse, they were getting sick and their stomachs were exploding. Their eyes were bleeding, their insides were liquefying and whatever it was, didn’t leave a damned sign behind it, besides a hole in the chest cavity where it was sucking out the fluid.

After finishing a particularly delicious cheese burger and piece of apple pie, the brothers found themselves, dressed in suits, at the morgue. It used to amaze Dean that people would believe that he was actually an FBI agent, but after so many years of lying about his job, he just went with that the general population just believed whatever could be conveniently placed before their eyes.

A tall, lanky medical examiner pulled the body from the freezer. Seeing dead bodies no longer made Dean feel ill. They hadn’t in years. What kind of Nancy-Boy Hunter would he be if he had never learned to hack it? No, every now and then the smell would get to him, but it was never the visage before him. He saw death. He knew death. Hell, he’d died more times than he could count, death didn’t really bother him anymore.

But, apparently, that day, it did.

Dean took one look at the body on the tray and doubled over. He threw up his lunch all over the floor, the mess having no resemblance of the delicious assault of calories it had once been. The problem wasn’t that he had lost all sense of manliness in front of Sam and lost all chance of laying this Lady Medical Examiner. No, the problem was that he couldn’t stop throwing up.

The dry heaving kept coming. A doctor had been alerted and despite their best attempted of putting Dean into the hospital; he and Sam managed to escape.

They made it back to the hotel room. Without anything else in his stomach, the dry-heaving eventually subsided. Sam sat next to him, not sure exactly what his next move should be. Dean was showing the signs of the sickness. Vomiting that subsides, followed by a day and a half of sleep, then voracious hunger, and then more vomiting that doesn’t stop, until whoever is infected dies either of dehydration or the fever that sets in.

Sam was in a bind. He didn’t like the idea of leaving his brother alone to suffer, but at the same time, coddling Dean wasn’t going to save him. And Dean, if he actually had this sickness, was about to become useless. He was about to pass out and go to sleep. That meant that Sam had a day and a half to figure this out before the sickness progressed.

Dean didn’t even remember Sam leaving. The next thing he remembered was waking up. He knew it hadn’t been over a day yet. The room was dark. Something was there. Probably whatever was sending this disease around. Whatever was making these people’s insides jello. It was probably making sure that its next meal was coming along.

He still felt nauseous. He didn’t feel like he could throw up again, but moving too much could set off some undesirable reaction.

“Dean.”

The grip on the gun relaxed. His eyes widened, but he didn’t dare make too much of a move.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was raw, hardly more than a croak.

The sound of foots steps creaked on the floor. A click and suddenly light filled the room. Dean grunted and clenched his eyes shut.

“You’re sick.” 

Dean didn’t have to look to see the angel. He could imagine him standing there. The jacket, the suit, the button-up. Nothing about the guy ever changed. It was like time stood still for him. Every other angel he had ever seen at least changed their clothes sometimes, but not Cas. Never Cas.

“You noticed. I’m touched.” 

He groaned and attempted to roll over to see the man, but the action made him feel dizzy. He grunted and just looked at the man from the corner of his eyes.

“Sam’s not going to find a cure out there.”

The monotone of Castiel’s voice didn’t even break when he was giving bad news.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“I don’t know, but the sickness had already set in. You’re not going to make it. Destroying this creature is not going to save you.”

A small pang of panic ran through Dean’s consciousness, but quickly faded away. Puking over a bucket earlier that day had sort of told him that there wasn’t exactly a cure.

“Well, aren’t you the bearer of good news. Thanks for coming to tell me it’s hopeless.” He groaned. “Why am I awake? I thought I was supposed to be asleep until tomorrow at least.”

“I woke you up.”

Dean groaned softly. “Why did you do that? Sleep was the only relief I got and you took it away. What if the sickness runs through earlier now?” He was angry. He had learned a long time ago that angels weren’t the merciful creatures he had grown up believing they were, but he couldn’t help but still attach the thought to them.

“It’s won’t.”

“How the hell do you know?”

“Because I’ve been putting this off for a while, but I think it’s time that we make our connection stronger. Build an emotional connection.”

The bed to his right dipped with the weight of the angel. Dean’s body lulled over and he craned his next to look at the angel. Castiel sat facing away from Dean, his eyes locked on the wall in front of him.

“What are you going on about, Cas?” He felt his stomach churn and his hissed, pulling his knees closer toward his chest. This was comforting and comfort was what he needed at the moment, not dealing with angels and feeling sick as a dog.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

The thought brought a taut laugh from the man’s dry throat. He wheezed and grinned up at the man to his right. Castiel? Kissing him? Like this? While he was dying some seedy motel room in Vermont.

“What? Really? Tongue included?”

Castiel glanced back at him, their eyes meeting. “If that’s what you prefer.”

The smile fell from Dean’s face and he broke the locked gazed they shared. “You’re starting to freak me out, Cas.”

“That is not my intention.”

The bed shifted when Castiel began to move, standing on the bed before Dean on his knees.

“Are you kidding me? You’re going to kiss me and save me? Sounds too much like a fairytale to me. What is going on?”

Castiel brow stayed furled, his expression didn’t change. He placed a hand on the bed beside Dean’s arm and used it to balance himself as he leaned in toward Dean.

“Cas!” Dean called, the lurching feeling coming back as he slid away. “What do you think you’re doing, man?!”

Castiel paused. “I’m trying to save you. Or would you rather your insides turn into goo?”

Dean steadied his body and leaned back on the bed, adjusting himself so that he was lying on his back, Castiel hovering above him.

“Fine, but I gotta admit, I didn’t imagine our first time being like this.” Dean felt nervous beginning to build as Castiel began to move toward him. The man closed his eyes and puckered his lips. He didn’t really want to kiss Castiel, but if it would make this sickness stop, he was all for this… unconventional cure.

Before their lips touched, Dean could sense Castiel’s body getting closer. He clenched his eyes shut as hard as he could and wasn’t at all surprised when he felt the lips of the angel on his. What did surprise him was that Castiel’s didn’t immediately move away after the kiss.

Instead, he scoots his body closer without breaking the kiss. A hand found its way to Dean’s cheek and the man’s eyes widened when he felt Castiel’s tongue shove itself into Dean’s mouth.

“Castiel!” he cried out, pulling away from the kiss, sitting up and wiping at his lips. “What was that?!”

Castiel’s head leaned to the side. “You said you wanted tongue.”

Dean let out a nervous laugh. “Well, you didn’t disappoint, did you?” He unintentionally licked his lips and tasted Castiel still there. A blush flew to his cheeks when he realized that he didn’t hate what had just happened, but no one would ever find out about that.

“You look much less sick now.”

That’s when Dean realized this was true. No longer did he feel like he was on the verge of puking something that wasn’t in his stomach. In fact, he was starving. He could eat a horse. Slap it between two buns and that was good enough for him. Maybe some onion. A side of apple pie, fries, and a chocolate shake.

“Cas! You cured me!” He hopped out of bed, still dressed in his suit, he saw. He reached for his phone and dialed Sam’s number. He held it up to his ear and immediately got Sam’s voice mail. He cursed and hung it up.

“Must be busy. Just because I’m better doesn’t mean that that thing isn’t still out there, making other people into juice boxes.” He sighed and pulled off the button up, tossing it to the bed, his pants following soon after.

A half hour later, Dean was dressed. He walked out of the bathroom, surprised to see that Castiel was still there. Normally, he would’ve been long gone by now.

“Cas? You’re still here?”

The angel nodded. “Yes, observation.”

Dean chuckled as he grabbed his wallet. Shoving it into his pocket, he shook his head. “Not sure why, you’ve got some magic lips, my man. I’m completely cured.”

“No, not for that. I told you before, we forged an emotional bond. No angel has done that with a human since biblical times.” He paused for a moment, the only sound in the room being that of the shower dripping after its recent use. “This is the first time I’ve done it.”

A cold feeling in the pit of Dean’s stomach began to rise. His brow furled. Castiel had pulled him from hell and forged a bond with him. Dean could pray to Castiel and the angel would be there in microseconds. How was this kiss supposed to bring them closer? 

“You called it an emotional bond. What..” he gave a smirk. “What does that mean exactly? You aren’t the most emotive person I’ve met, Cas. A kiss and what? We’re connected forever?”

“Yes. You’ll always be able to call me. And, despite the marks on your bones, I will be able to find you anywhere.”

“Alright, what else?” Castiel wasn’t telling him something. The cold knot in Dean’s stomach hadn’t alleviated. There was something else just on the tip of his tongue that he wasn’t telling him.

“Nothing.”

“Well, no offense, but that’s kind of what we had before, almost. How does this emotional bit come into play?” 

Castiel sighed and snapped his fingers. In the blink of an eye, they were at a diner. It was a small, ramshackle place that had to have been on the outskirt of some town.

“Cas! Where are we?”

Castiel glanced back for all but a moment before he started walking toward the diner. Dean grunted and trailed after him, following the angel to a back booth.

The restaurant was empty except for one man nursing a cup of coffee, an annoyed waitress, and the frycook who was scrubbing down the grill.

“Dammit, Castiel! Where are we?”

“Tennessee.”

“Tennessee?! What are we doing in Tennessee? We’re over a thousand miles away from where my brother is! What if he comes back?”

Castiel shrugged as the waitress approached them. Dean leaned back into the booth as she laid menus and rolled silverware before the both of them.

“What to drink, hon?”

Dean looked up at the woman and shook his head. “Uh, coffee.”

“And you, hon?”

Castiel kept his eyes locked on Dean. “I won’t be having anything.”

The woman rolled her eyes and wrote the order down on a small, yellow notepad and walked away.

“Are you ready to tell me why you brought to a diner in Tennessee?” Dean asked, meeting the gaze of the angel.

“You were hungry.”

Dean scoffed. “So, of course Tennessee is the place to go to. Now, start talking, Cas. Don’t make me take you out back and beat the shit out of you, like a good ol’ boy.”

Castiel kept silent for a moment, staring at Dean. The man gripped his hands into fists on the table, resisting the urge to grab the knife and stab it through the angel’s hand.

The moment was broken when the woman came back, putting the coffee on the table.

“So, what’re ya havin’?”

Dean glanced at Castiel and narrowed his eyes. “Cheese burger, fries, and a piece of pie.”

“Comin’ right up,” she drawled before walking away.

“Cas, please. You don’t usually stick around so long and you damn sure don’t take me to out to diners to make sure I’m not hungry. Now, what is it?”

“I bonded myself to you to make sure that you wouldn’t die. Pulling you out of Hell gave us a physical bond. You call, I listen.”

“Not always,” he said with a scoff. “So, you became my guardian angel. Cute, Cas.” Dean poured several packets of sugar into his coffee before taking a drink. “Keep talking.”

“This is the next level. An emotional bond. You’re tied to Heaven now. We can feel each other. I can sense your emotions, hence the name. You can do the same for me.”

“Must not be working, I don’t feel a thing from you,” Dean muttered, taking another sip from his coffee. 

After the word escaped from his mouth, he felt an unmistakable pang of hurt. He glanced at the angel and narrowed his gaze. “Was that you?”

“It does bother me you’re not thankful.”

Dean threw his head back and sighed. “Alright, look, Cas. Thanks. I appreciate it, I do. But how the hell did you even find me? With all of that mumbo jumbo written on my chest, you usually can’t find me unless I call for you.”

“You did call for me,” Castiel said, folding his hands in front of him on the table.

“What? No, I didn’t. I was asleep.”

“It’s how I got there. You did. You were calling for me during a fever dream.”

A blush spread across his face. Calling for Cas? Him?

“Well, I suppose that embarrassing fever dream, whatever it was, saved my life.”

“Yes.”

“Are there any adverse effects?”

“Yes.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “What are they?”

“I now have to deal with knowing your emotions. You have a lot of them. They’ve flooded me since you walked into the door. The only beneficial knowledge I’ve gained from them so far was that you enjoyed my kiss.”

Again, Dean’s face lit him. Castiel had felt that? It was supposed to be a secret. No one was going to ever find out and he was going to do his damnedest to forget it himself.

“No reason to feel ashamed, Dean. Angels don’t have genders. It’s the gender of my vessel.”

Dean looked up at the man and scoffed. “I’m not ashamed! It’s just not every day I’m told I have to kiss an angel to save my life!”

Castiel shrugged. He glanced to his side, leading Dean to do the same as the waitress returned to the table with his food.

Dean ate in silence. Castiel kept himself busy by reading the menu, murmuring to himself about one thing or another. After he finished, Dean pulled out his wallet and put a ten on the table before walking out with Castiel in tow.

“Why are you still here, Cas? It’s just strange that you’re following me around. Usually, I turn around and you’re a thousand miles away.”

Dean realized immediately that he was feeling an emotion that wasn’t his. He looked up at the angel, whose eyes stared at him. The emotion was a burning in his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling. He was sure that he had felt this very same thing for a woman at some point. Castiel was feeling this for him? Why did he not feel this until now?

“You’re blocking yourself from me. What’s really going on here?” Dean asked, scooting his feet along the parking lot.

“I pulled you from Hell, I—”

“And you won’t let me forget it, either.”

Castiel shut him mouth and glared, the annoyance spreading over Dean.

“I pulled you from Hell. I fell for you. I died for you. Forgive me if after all the craziness in Heaven, you’re the closest thing to a normal state that I have. I may be a bit attached.”

Attachment is definitely not the word that Dean would’ve used to describe the emotion that he was currently coated in. It was more extreme than that. It was stronger.

“Do…” Dean paused and felt a nervous smile plaster across his face. “Do you love me, Castiel?”

“As much as an angel can love a human.”

“And how much is that, Cas?”

Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He knew that Castiel could feel his apprehension about the situation because Dean was feeling Castiel’s discomfort about being questioned, but through it all, he never felt the emotion that Castiel release waver.

“You didn’t really have to kiss me to do this emotional connection, did you?”

“Yes. I did. A kiss seals a deal with an angel the same it does with a cross-roads demon.”

Dean nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Alright. Well, I’ve eaten. Can we get back to Vermont? I’m safe, but whatever creature that is out there, is still there. And Sam is going to need some help.”

Disappoint washed over Dean, Castiel’s disappointment. 

“What do you want, Cas? I can’t give it to you unless you tell me.”

Castiel pursed his lips and reached over. He laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder and in an instant, they were standing back in the hotel room again. It was just as they had left it. Sam still wasn’t back, silence rang throughout the room.

“I will take my leave. I don’t know where your brother is, but—”

“Thank you, Cas.” Dean leaned over and wrapped his arms around Castiel.

Dean, who didn’t usually hug people, and Castiel, who didn’t usually do much physical anything, made for the most awkward hug that Dean had ever been a part of in his entire life. He pulled away from Castiel and pat his shoulder.

Castiel closed the space between them, mashing their lips together once more.

The kiss surprised Dean. His first instinct was to shove the angel away and beat his ass, but the moment their lips touched, that melted away. This time, only the emotion between them intensified. Dean could feel exactly what Castiel was feeling. Fear, reservation, anticipation, all flooded into him. He was sure that Castiel could feel his own nervousness and …excitement? 

When Castiel pressed his tongue against Dean’s lips, Dean met the angel’s tongue enthusiastically. He surprised himself as he took control of the kiss shoving Castiel against the door, pressing their chests together, the slight annoyance of Castiel’s loose tie jabbing him in the chest as he carefully bit Castiel’s lower lip.

The tie began to annoy Dean. He raised his hands up and began to loosening the thing even more, throwing it to the side. His hand’s lingered, working with the buttons. In his mind, it was no longer connecting to him that he was kissing a man, undressing a man. What was connecting with him was the fact that the emotional flood gates between had been completely opened. He could almost feel everything thought that passed through Castiel’s head as they continued.

“Bed,” Castiel managed to choke when Dean finished unbuttoning his shirt. Dean nodded and pulled away from the angel.

Castiel walked past the man, shrugging off his coat and shirt, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. Dean followed quickly behind him, jerking off his own shirt and jacket and climbed onto the bed, ready.

“Are you sure you want to keep going, Dean? Because—”

Dean silenced the angel with a kiss and pulled him on top of him, down on the bed. Castiel was awkward straddling Dean’s thighs as the man forced Castiel further down, making the angel support himself with his hands.

Dean grinned to himself as he raised one of his knees up into Castiel’s groin, pressing it carefully along the bulge in Castiel’s pants.

Castiel released a loud groan, pulling away from the kiss to look down at Dean. Confusing spread between the both of them. Dean merely smiled as he leaned forward, sitting in front of Castiel. He mashed their lips together again once more, his hands reaching down to work on the belt of his slacks.

Once he managed to pull the belt out and unbutton the pant, Dean dipped his hand inside, running his fingers along the underwear-covered bulge. A shaky gasp sounded from Castiel’s mouth as he pulled away, the angel’s hot breath in his neck, his hand gripping over the burn mark of his shoulder.

“It’s going to get even better, Cas,” Dean found himself whispered as he pulled the angel’s erection from his pants. He ran his fingers along the hardened flesh. This was the first time that he had held another man in his hand before. Dean was more than surprised that he wasn’t disgusted with himself for it.

The man wrapped his hand around the angel’s length and began to stroke him, carefully squeezing the shaft as moved from base to tip. When he reached the top, he slid his hand back down and began to repeat the motion.

After a few times of reenacting this action, Castiel stopped him.

“D-Dean. If you keep going, I’m going to finish. I don’t want that yet.”

Dean nodded and slid away from the angel. He scooted back against the scratchy hotel pillows and loosened his own belt. He freed himself from his jeans and underwear, pulling them off quicker than he had ever managed to do before, pulled his bare legs against his chest as he slid the denim and cotton down his legs, throwing them away.

“If we’re gonna do what I think we’re doing, we’re going to need some lube, Cas.”

“Lube?”

Dean smirked and shook his head. He stood and strolled over to his overnight bag. Never knew when he was going to find a lucky lady or just wanted to give himself a smooth ride. 

“This is going to be important for the future.”

He dangled the bottle in front of Castiel, who took it. The angel flipped the lid open and let the fluid flood into his hands. Castiel’s eyes widened and he began to move the slick substance around his hand.

“You put it on your… Well, you know.”

Dean took the bottle and showed the angel. He coated his own erection, releasing a slightly hiss as he gave himself an extra stroke. 

“Are we going to have sex?”

“Only if you want to. Do you know what you’re doing?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes again and the familiar sensation of annoyance flooded over him.

“I may not have participated before in earthly delights, but I do know how to function in them. Angels talk about what they do with their vessels.”

“Cas, this isn’t wrong, is it? I mean, you’re a freakin’ angel in a man’s body. I’m not going to get smote, am I? Queerin’ up an angel?”

“You can’t ‘queer up’ an angel, Dean. We have no gender.”

Relief flooded through Dean when he heard that and Castiel’s shoulder relaxed, proving that he felt it too. That was all Dean needed to continue.

He pulled the Angel toward him and mashed their lips together. If he was going to have sex with Castiel, he was going to be on top.

Dean pushed Castiel against the creaky mattress. He remembered the loud sounds making him feel sicker earlier, but now it was a welcome sound as he pushed the angel’s body into the springy mattress.

The man forced a knee between Castiel’s leg, sliding them open. He hooked his hands under Castiel’s knees and slid them carefully apart. Dean glanced over at the lube waiting on the nightstand. He reached over and grabbed it, pouring a fair amount onto his palm before coating his fingers. He felt a bit of apprehension from Castiel.

“Don’t worry. We’ll take it slow.”

Castiel nodded and leaned back against the pillows, spreading this thighs a bit further for the man.

Dean pressed a finger into Castiel, who froze completely. Dean quickly leaned over and mashed a quick kiss against Castiel’s lips, who graciously welcomed the distraction.

The hunter began to probe inside of the other man. Thanks to a few kinky girls, Dean knew about where a prostate was and he began to search for that magic spot. He knew he found it when Castiel gasped and tightened his grip on Dean’s forearm, a feeling of shock passing between the two of them.

“Found it,” he said with a smirk as he slid in a second finger, carefully scissoring and spreading the tight ring, coaxing it to relax. He’d done anal with a girl before, so lucky for Castiel that he wasn’t shooting in the dark on this one.

For extra measure, since he was sure this was Cas’s first time, Dean slid in a third finger, pressing them in as far as he could before he was stopped by the curled last digit on his hand.

The inside of Castiel was hot and soft. Dean’s cock twitched at the thought. He smirked at the angel on the bed as he pulled his fingers out of him. He glanced at his lubed covered fingers for a moment before he reached down to wipe away the excess on his sheets before he reached over and grabbed the lube once again from the nightstand.

Pouring a dollop on his palm, Dean worked quickly to coat his erection, making sure that he wasn’t going to have to reapply the lube halfway through.

When he finished, again Dean wiped his hands off on the motel sheets. They’d be changed tomorrow anyway.

The thought of being inside of Castiel began to send adrenaline running through Dean’s body. He adjusted his body so that he was hovering over the angel, his hands taking Castiel’s thighs into his hand and hoisting his body up. His cock twitched with anticipation as it pressed against the angel’s entrance.

Castiel heaved a careful breath, a bud of anxiety budding from between them. This time, Dean wasn’t entirely sure that the emotion was just coming from the angel.

“Are you ready, Cas?”

“As I’ll ever be, I suppose.” 

Dean nodded and carefully began to slide into the angel below him. Castiel’s body was as tight around him as he thought he would be. He sharply inhaled as his cock was enveloped by Castiel’s tight hole, the angel’s body clinging deliciously around him.

The hunter pushed in to the hilt, pausing as he glanced down at the man below him. “Everything peachy keen?”

He could feel that Castiel was experiencing discomfort, he was sure he knew where that discomfort was stemming from, but he didn’t know how bad it was. 

“What is ‘peachy keen’?” Castiel questioned, his torso shifting so that he was more comfortable.

A chuckle escaped Dean’s lips. “I mean, are you alright to keep going?”

The angel nodded. Dean grabbed Castiel’s hips hoisted them up slightly, fingers digging into Castiel’s toned thighs.

Dean pulled out from the angel before beginning a slow rhythm. He knew that it wasn’t a good idea to go as hard as he’d like to just yet. You didn’t do that to virgins. The needed it slow.

But the noises escaping from between Castiel’s lips was doing just enough for Dean at the moment. With each slow thrust, Dean began to adjust his movements so that he could hit that sweet spot inside of the angel. He knew just about where it was, but his dick wasn’t quite as agile as his fingers.

He knew he found it when Castiel cried out, this time louder than before. He’d found it. He could feel a small euphoric feeling budding from the angel beneath him. He couldn’t help but feel a bit proud knowing that he was the person that caused it.

Dean began to speed the rhythm up, sweat beading on his forehead as he began to pivot his hips against Castiel’s lifted thighs, the loud sound of slapping filling the room. Dean closed his eyes and felt his chest beginning to rise faster and faster as he could feel the angel’s body cling around him.

The hunter watched as the angel’s hands wrung the sheets as his eyes. His eyes trailed down Castiel’s body, landing on his weeping erection. He paused in his motion and pulled out of the angel for a moment.

“Why did you stop?” Castiel asked, his breath heaving, his features flushed.

“Got a better idea, this position wasn’t doing everything I want.” Dean reached over and reapplied the lube to his cock.

“Alright, Cas. Hands and knees.”

Cas look at him curiously for a moment before he obeyed, moving his body into position. He glanced over his shoulder back at Dean before he spread his thighs.

This position gave Dean everything he wanted. He could move faster, adjust himself more easily, and give Cas the good ol’ reach-around. It was great, except for the fact that he could no longer see Castiel’s face. He cursed and wished that the headboard had a mirror on it. It would’ve been perfect.

“Alright, here I come,” Dean said softly as he slid up behind Castiel. He placed his hands on the other’s hips, gripping tightly. He amused himself with the fact he had Castiel’s handprint on his shoulder and Cas was going to have his on his hips. His were kinkier.

Dean lined his cock back up and slid back inside of Castiel. He groaned softly at the sudden tightness around his cock once again. Castiel was slightly looser than before, but this was a good thing, he knew he wasn’t hurting him now, which also showed when the angel arched his back and gripped the sheets before him, gasping Dean’s name.

The hunter immediately slid back into a quick rhythm. Castiel began to move his own hips, meeting Dean’s powerful thrusts. When the pace was made, Dean lifted the grip with his right hand and reached around Castiel’s right side, wrapping his hand around the angel’s erection. As he began his relentless assault on Castiel’s prostate, Dean began a just as fast rhythm on the angel’s cock.

Castiel’s breath hitched in his throat as he wrung his fingers in the sheets. Dean was working as hard and quickly as he could, the feeling of his release building. He could almost feel it.

It wasn’t more than a moment later when Castiel’s cried out, his body tensing tightly around Dean. The hunter could feel the angel’s erection pulsing in his hand as the angel was pushed over the edge.

The sudden tightness around Dean’s dick sent him into his own orgasm, his nails digging into the reddened, bruising thighs. He moaned loudly as pleasure shot through him in waves, a new one starting with each spurt of his erection, filling the inside of angel.

Dean cried out as he collapsed on Castiel’s back. The weight of the hunter caused the angel’s arms to buckle and the two were lying together on the bed a moment later.

They both laid in silence for a long time. Dean’s chest was heaving as a general feeling of satiation passed between them. Something had told the hunter that Castiel had been waiting for this for a long time.

Dean sighed and laid an arm across the other’s chest. He had a few questions about this new body, but they weren’t as important to Dean as basking in the afterglow of great sex. He found, to his delight, that he wasn’t even the slightest bit disappointed in himself that that great sex had been with another man.

The silence continued for what felt like hours. The two men simply laid there, catching their breath, relaxed. 

However, this was soon interrupted by the chugging sound of the engine of the Impala and lights flashing through the curtains of the room.

Dean immediately sat him and cursed.

“Cas! Shit! What—”

But the angel was no longer in the bed, but dressed before him. Dean hurried and scrambled under the covers, his mind trying to think of any excused to explain this situation to Sam.

The door opened a moment later, slowly as if Sam didn’t want to wake Dean, but upon seeing Castiel standing at the foot of the bed and his brother under the sheets, took on a confused look.

“Cas? Dean? What’s going on here?”

Castiel turned toward Sam. Dean was sure that Castiel could feel every ounce of worry that Dean was experience. The angel stayed as straight-faced as he always did.

“Sam. Dean called for me. Did you find the creature that did this?”

“Yeah, it was a—wait, it said that Dean was going to die, that you couldn’t cure people of its venom. How’d you cure him?”

“I forged a stronger connection with Dean. Illnesses like that can’t penetrate a body that’s been claimed by heaven.”

Dean’s cheek reddened when he heard the word ‘claimed’. There’d been quite of bit of that happening the last few hours.

“Oh.” Same looked to Dean and pursed his lips. “Well, I killed it. It didn’t give too much trouble. Actually, I’m not sure what the hell it was, I didn’t give it time to talk before I stabbed it with silver.”

Dean nodded and glanced back in the direction of Castiel, who gave him a fleeting glance before disappearing.

Sam walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. “Glad you’re okay, Dean. It was lucky that Cas came this time. He’s got a habit of not showing up when you call for him.” He smirked and leaned down to the floor, handing Dean his jeans.

“Not sure what this making your connection stronger with him entailed, but you’re not puking and passed out anymore.”

Dean gave a small chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Me either. I woke up like this. Good thing Cas isn’t some perverted freak.”

Sam stood and stretched his back. “Yeah, good thing.” He glanced to the nightstand. “I bet that lube made the whole process easier.”  
Dean smacked the bottle and shoved it onto the floor in an attempt to hide it.

Sam snorted. “Look man. Just glad you’re alive. And if you and Cas want to ‘make your bond stronger’ again, just send me a text and I’ll take the scenic way back.”

Dean narrowed his gaze as he stood up out of the bed, shoving his legs into his jeans. “Ha, ha. Real mature, Sam. Cas saved my life.”

“Yeah, and I’m grateful I came back to a brother who is alive and well.”

Dean paused and shook his head. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it on over his head. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of Vermont.”

The End.


End file.
